


Swapped

by Hedge Witch (Speechless_Seal)



Category: Marble Hornets, SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation, Slender Man Mythos, Slender: The Arrival, Slender: The Eight Pages
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Blood and Gore, Dimension Travel, How Do I Tag, I Tried, Implied Torture, Jeff has trouble talking because he destroyed his cheek muscles, Marble Hornets but I'm not sure what timeline I'm giving this, Murder, Other, Slender looks after his proxies, Slenderverse, The Operator and Slenderman are different, They Know Each Other Though, Timeline What Timeline, Violence, Why Did I Write This?, and because hellfire is bound to trigger hyperpyrexia in any given lad, because if everyone just went around shining bright lights in Kate's eyes we'd have a problem, let's not infantilize Toby please, thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-26 17:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19010947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speechless_Seal/pseuds/Hedge%20Witch
Summary: During a meeting with the Operator, the Keeper and two of his proxies find themselves cornered by a squadron from the SCP Foundation. The force proves too powerful and the whole operation is scattered as cryptids and proxies alike are dragged off left and right. After a desperate escape attempt using strange machinery found in the foundation's headquarters, they find themselves one step closer to home--just not the one in their universe.





	1. R E A D T H I S

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I might as well write this considering it's my birthday, I'm not celebrating because I have no one to do so with and because I have no shame. 
> 
> This fanbase, in particular, has driven many of its creators to tears over what they've made. That makes me sad, considering what incredible possibilities it could've held in store. A collaborative fanbase, who build upon what each other write? A complex spiral of internet legends created by the minds of thousands around the world? The exploration of the perspective of villain and monster, both vilified and humanized? Could've been great. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading, loves.

DISCLAIMER: 

THE FOLLOWING IS NOT CANON TO ANY PASTA, SLENDER OR SCP SERIES IN ANY WAY. IT IS A FAN WORK CREATED FOR THE ENJOYMENT OF THE FANS AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE OPINIONS OR STATEMENTS OF ANY AUTHORS OF ANY OF THE MENTIONED MEDIA. I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY AND TAKE NO CREDIT FOR ANYTHING RELATING TO THEM OR THE MEDIA THEY ARE SOURCED FROM. 

THE FOLLOWING, LIKE THE MEDIA IT IS SOURCED FROM, IS A WORK OF PURE FICTION WITH NO BASIS IN REAL LIFE WHATSOEVER. SLENDERVERSE, MARBLE HORNETS, SCP FOUNDATION, CREEPYPASTA AND OTHER MENTIONED MEDIA ARE WORKS OF FICTION CREATED AS SOURCES OF ENTERTAINMENT IN THE GENRE OF HORROR AND HAVE NO RELATIONSHIP TO REAL LIFE EVENTS. ANY SIMILARITIES TO PEOPLE OR ANIMALS LIVING OR DEAD OR EVENTS ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. 

My heart goes out to Payton Leutner for what she suffered in 2014. I hope that such an event never repeats itself again. It is important that we teach the readers of these stories to differentiate between reality and fiction through common sense, good judgement, and to use and analyze valid sources to form opinions and beliefs before acting on them as to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again. There are many young, impressionable readers of these forms of entertainment media and it is important that we as fans and readers band together and uphold the aforementioned values. In doing so, we do our part in ensuring everyone in the fanbase is well-informed and thus able to fully enjoy the stories we compile. 

Let’s please not romanticize murder or mental disability. They are serious matters. Nothing is forbidden to write about, of course, but such issues should be given at least some respect in their gravity. 

As for all you writers who really put in the effort, both creators and eager fans, kudos to you. It takes a lot of research and hard work to write entirely from the perspective of a murderer, cryptid, or even victim properly and engagingly. My writing will never measure up to yours. However, I hope that this small piece of fiction, made mostly out of odd bits and crossover ideas, gives at least a shred of respect to your creations. The surrounding controversy around the fanbase and content has made me hesitant in publishing anything remotely related online, but your dedication to your works, whether it be original or fan content, has sort of inspired me to continue. Keep up the amazing work. 

That being said, thank you for reading, and enjoy responsibly. 

-Hedge


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Keeper has found something he wants the Operator to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> START.

To be so far away from familiar ground can do odd things to a person. 

The urge for rest may overwhelm them, but perhaps out of paranoia, they will remain vigilant, even in the latest hours of the morning. 

Still, the soothing sounds of rainfall in the Illinois fields proved effective in calming the pair that the Keeper had brought with him. Being so close to active human property could turn some of his agents… 

...agitated. 

He eyed the two sprawled on the floor of the dilapidated house. As soon as he’d given them the okay, they had taken out their blankets and curled up on the floor. It had taken some time for them to fall asleep, but they dozed off eventually. He’d have to call them forward soon, but it was essential that they repleted their energies before they moved on. The trek had been long- crossing four states or so to get to the meeting point- and it was bound to have exhausted them, however well-versed they were in this practice of theirs. 

The Keeper watched closely as a large brown rat scampered out of one of the rotting holes in the walls. It neared the elder of the two, which locals back in the Four Corners had dubbed The Chaser. Kate Milens had never agreed to that name, and the Keeper was unsure if she even remembered her own true name, seeing as she’d taken up rather animalistic behavior after her proxification, but the mute agent seemed to heel to the nickname well enough when it was called out. Fearing the rodent would bite her, he lashed out at it, and quickly terminated it. 

The other agent stirred at the sound of the dying pest.

This one was smaller and younger but by god more brutal than Kate and any of the others. There was bitter resentment in his eyes as he worked- not hatred, but close- brought by what he only assumed was frustration at this messed up human world. As such, he seemed numb to violence, numb to blood and gore and as such it seemed almost ironic that he himself was physically numb- to pain, heat, cold, and hunger to an extent. The condition was a form of peripheral neuropathy called congenital analgesia, or so he suspected, though there were signs of anhidrosis. Paired with his frequent emotional instability, pale and leathery complexion, and hyperactive character, it was, in fact, a telltale sign of congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis. The proxy had also been born with Tourette’s syndrome, which caused involuntary motor and phonic repetitions called tics. While these had lessened over time, they were still present and seemed to worsen under stress or excitement. He’d been hesitant in his choice to take him in initially, knowing this, but now knew that he simply had to consider the circumstances of the mission before sending the proxy in. He had become a valuable asset to him and he wanted to assure that some bout of hyperpyrexia would not have him benched from his missions. Toby Erin Rogers didn’t “get a cool name”, as he often put it, because everyone already knew him by name. He wasn’t exactly the stealthiest killer and often needed a cleanup crew to be sent after him to avoid discovery. Denver locals now only spoke of their former neighbor in whispers, and cringed through news report of his deeds before moving on with their lives.

The Keeper did not let him remember any of the life he lived before. It would be jeopardizing to their whole operation-

-well, except for one small detail, to keep him going- he believed her name was Lyra, and the memory of her would be enough to let him know that this life was all he had left. 

The Keeper eyed him as he thrashed for a bit, kicking the Chaser awake and beginning to pant. Some sort of nightmare, probably, fueled by whatever hells he’d made him forget that night of the fire. He gently tapped the proxy on the head to wake him. It was time to go soon, anyways. 

The two shook off their grogginess and folded their blankets on command. Kate stuffed hers into a small, sensible bag she’d brought with her. It contained not much else than the bare essentials: a water bottle, a first aid kit, painkillers, some non-perishable food for the road, and a change of clothes. She took a sip of water and moved on. Toby neatly folded his blanket into his backpack. It still had myriad pins and stickers conveying varying messages covering it. Human decorations were strange, indeed. The backpack’s contents were more neatly organized but more miscellaneous, while also containing some essentials: pens, paper, bottled water, snacks, a bottle of divalproex sodium pills, and a well-used sharpening stone as well as baby wipes and hand sanitizer (one never knows when the blood splatters will get past the masks). He offered half a granola bar to Kate and trekked onwards behind her. 

The Keeper, known around these parts as the Slenderman, led his agents into the depths of the woods, for they had business to do.

 

Their long journey had not been in vain after all. As had been agreed, a second tall, faceless creature was present at the meeting spot. The smaller Alabama cryptid was standing still amongst the trees. Two humans in yellow hoods and odd masks knelt on the ground beside him. They held each other’s hands and cradled their heads. One of them seemed to be crying. They were in much worse shape than his own proxies. He almost felt sorry for them.

Kate and Toby stood at attention beside him, their weapons drawn. 

The Operator approached slowly and extended a long, slim hand to the Keeper.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he understood. “Now, we’ve business to attend to.”


	3. Am Dheagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slender and the Operator discuss some... "findings". Meanwhile, their agents get to know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really appreciate comments or anything similar, just let me know if you read! Please be gentle, though, especially with each other. No need to fight over things as trivial as   
>  something you saw in a fan work.

“I do not understand how this could apply to either of our systems,” the Operator growled. “How you found out about it is beyond me as well.”

 

And here, his voice turned a whisper, that only the two of them should hear it.

 

“One should be careful when prodding about human affairs. As powerful creatures as we make ourselves seem, you and I both know that with those strange brute-force technologies of theirs, we become elusive rather than strong in their eyes. I would not let my agents have half as many of the freedoms you give yours. One day they will bite the hand that feeds them and-”

 

“How I keep my  _ proxies  _ is of no concern to you- you seem afraid of them, even. You needn’t be,” the Keeper responded. “It’s quite clear to them that this type of life is all they have left. They would not turn their backs on me.”

 

The Operator was silent and seemed to glance first at the Keeper’s agents, then at the two humans on the forest floor. They had stopped shaking and were now simply huddled together quietly. The Keeper had caught Toby staring at them several times, whispering things to Kate, and had watched her nod or shake her head accordingly. 

 

“...you. Up,” the Operator said, pointing at his own agents, and then to the Keeper’s. “Go talk to them. Gently. Put away your weapons.” 

 

They rose, a bit reminiscent of the stereotypical paranormal twins from those supernatural movies humans seemed to love so much. In perfect unison, they walked towards the other pair and stood until they moved away as well. 

 

The two cryptids were left alone as their agents waited. 

 

“..I am a weak fish, do you understand?” 

 

The Operator mumbled this. 

 

“My turf is small and my operation is even smaller. I don’t take many risks like you large scale four-state creatures, but I’m effective, and I know that so far, you’ve shown me nothing. I apologize for my skittishness but I don’t usually venture this far away from my territory, and so far my trip has not come to fruition- why would something like that be important? That “SCP Foundation” found an alternate reality and everything in it was dead- that’s all there is. It’s not like we can use it for anything, considering it’s been blocked off anyway.” 

 

The Keeper paused upon hearing his rant. 

 

“Have you heard of Am Dhaegar…?” 

 

The Operator nodded.

 

“Somewhat. He’s myth to me, though. Zalgo’s brother, correct? Who he killed?”

 

“Yes, and his body formed stars and planets, and his blood turned to nebulas, and as such, he formed the universes and kingdoms, etcetera, etcetera, and it’s said that Zalgo’s seventh mouth will sing the song that ends that very world he made by killing him- it all sounds silly until you take into consideration what Zalgo can do. The humans have only seen tastes of it- their media being manipulated inexplicably, their games and their art changing, creating monsters out of only ink, pages, and codes- but we beyond this plane have seen the truth. Frankly, I would not care what Zalgo’s business is if I did not live in this world too. I’d much rather prefer to keep living. There must be at least some connection to Am Dhaegar, with this dead universe, no? Surely it is worth exploring, if only to discover something to halt the same from occurring here?” 

 

The Operator considered this. 

 

“Perhaps,” he said. “What shall we do, then?” 

 

“We could consult the others as well- tell them to send their agents to gather any data they find. Then once we know a bit more, we could consider what to do,” the Keeper replied. “I am just glad to inform you of this, be it mere paranoia that drove me to do it. Shall we call forth our proxies, then?”

 

“I will go fetch them,” the Operator said. “Thank you.”

 

The long-limbed cryptid lurched into the woods. His steps were noiseless. 

The Keeper made no protest. 

 

He waited for some time. 

 

But the Operator did not return- rather, the Corner State cryptid heard what seemed to be gunshots, and shouting, from the direction The Operator went towards, and soon after, screeching.

 

Screeching and flailing, the type of which the Keeper could only describe as belonging to his own species. The sound of police sirens blared in the distance, and his thoughts were torn from the Operator and towards his own proxies- oh gods, Toby- if the cops found him, he’d be facing life in prison or worse- and god knows what they’d do to Kate.

 

He stalked silently along the same path the Operator had taken, careful to blend in with the trees, and watched the distant commotion.

 

* * *

  
  


Four proxies sat on the forest floor in silence. 

 

No one moved or said a word while they waited for their masters to finish. 

 

Not while the boys in yellow jackets didn’t, anyway. 

 

One of them, the one in the white mask, eventually whispered something to the one in the hood, who just huddled closer to him and quieted once more. 

 

“So,” Toby proposed, a bit unnerved by the silence. “Um, a-are we g-gonna…”

 

No answer. 

 

“...okay,” he sighed. “Geez, you two are creepy as hell- uh, I-I’m Toby, and this is K-k-... The Chaser- so, uh, do you have n-names?” 

 

No answer again, at least for some time. 

 

“...we don’t use those,” said the masked man. “As so we are his entirely.”

 

“...wow,” Toby continued. “That’s kind of rough, u-uh… anything… we can… call you two? Anything you used to call yourselves? No?” 

 

Silence, again. 

 

“Tim,” said the masked man, and pointing at the hooded man, continued.  “And he was Brian. I am his voice and he is all else I cannot be. But again, we do not use names.”

 

“...alright, then, how about a nickname? What’dya think, “Chaser”?” 

 

She nodded in agreement and lifted her mask. Her brown locks fell away as she did so. 

 

“What’s your suggestion?” Toby asked, taking off his own mouthguard and lowering the cloth beneath it. His messy brown hair also fell as he lowered his hood. The pair seemed to have gotten comfortable with their surroundings. Their postures were relaxed as they let the few raindrops that made their way down through the thick forest cover splatter on their bare faces. The masked man tensed, as if afraid of their sudden openness, but nonetheless remained silent as he expected an answer. 

 

Kate tapped her mask gently, and pointed to the masked man. She continued to gesture across the 3 of them. 

 

“...having to do with a mask,” Toby began. “Four letters- oh, f-fourth letter o-of.. o-of… my name? ...put it… together? Oh! Maski? No- Masky?”

 

‘On the nose’, Kate gestured, smiling. 

 

“...young lady did her research,” Masky sighed. “That’s what the locals call me, and my partner Hoodie, or Hoody. While I’m not quite fond of the nickname, I’m willing to accept it, as is my partner.” 

 

“...you seem kinda down about t-that, “ Toby said softly.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Masky replied. “I am well, as is my partner.”

 

“...how come he never t-t-talks and you still know what he’s thinking? I usually have to g-guess with Kate.”

 

“ ‘Kate’, you let the name slip. Rookie mistake,” Masky replied. He said nothing else of it upon seeing how Toby’s face contorted in annoyance. “...we have a sort of shared intuition. That’s all I’ll say.” 

 

The hooded man, or “Hoodie”, pulled his mask up a bit to reveal his mouth. He was smiling warmly, brimming with more emotion than Masky had expressed even while able to speak. 

 

“...he says doesn’t mind being called Brian,” Masky sighed, and turned to the aforementioned. “Really, man. You gotta be a little careful.”

 

Almost jokingly, Hoodie pulled his mask up to reveal his face like the other two. He mouthed a soft greeting, but it was half hearted, as if he could barely form the words. 

 

The other proxies waved softly. 

 

“...the Operator did not tell us why we were brought so far from our territory,” Masky continued. “I assume you are in the dark as well.” 

 

Toby shook his head, and picked up his bag to rummage through. 

 

“W-we know a bit,” he replied. “Not that w-we can tell you.”

 

He fished out a granola bar from his backpack and handed it to Kate before taking one out for himself. 

 

The two other proxies stared wistfully at them

 

“...do,uh, you… w-want one?” He asked them. 

 

Brian was no longer smiling, but he nodded enthusiastically, and Masky removed his mask. 

 

“Please,” he whined. “We’re starving. I can’t remember the last time I ate.” 

 

“J-Jesus,” Toby stated. “Here.”

 

The hooded fellows seemed quite content with their snacks. Brian ate more slowly, and Masky ate voraciously, but they were seemingly satisfied for the time being. Toby handed them each a second one just to be sure, which they gladly devoured as well. 

 

The four ate together quietly for some time before Masky broke the silence.

 

“So what’s up with this place- Cook County, right? All abandoned forest? I thought I heard people around here.”

 

“Kate scouted around for a bit, said that the area around the farms is pretty tightly patrolled. As long as we stay out of their sight, though, w-we should be good,” Toby replied. He was seemingly very calm at the moment, as his voice was flat and almost genial.

 

“The boss is kind of skittish cause of that,” Masky sighed. “He said he saw some government officials- the cryptid-catcher kind- stalking around these woods, so he didn’t like that this place would be the meeting spot.”

 

“Don’t worry, s’long was we k-keep to ourselves, we should be fine,” Toby finished. “Welp- we should go get some water for the trip back. You two w-want to c-come?” 

 

Brian shrugged, and stood. The other followed. They pulled down their masks in unison.

 

“I’ll t-take that as a y-y-yes.” 

 

Kate quickly handed the younger proxy the water bottles they’d brought with them. 

 

“C-come on, I think the river was this way.” 

 

* * *

  
  


“F-fuck,” was all he could muster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

 

Kate hissed and growled violently as the flashlights shone on the four of their faces. 

 

“Cook County Police Department. Hands up, you’re under arrest.”


End file.
